Part of me wants to ask again, to push until he tells me what’s wrong.
But the bigger part of me—the part that remembers he’s still the man who trapped me, who took away my choices, who upended my entire life—refuses to beg.
“Goodnight, Menlow.”
I close the door in his face before he can respond.
Chapter 14 - Menlow
I’ve been staring at the same document for twenty minutes without reading a single word.
Across the office, Kirsten types away at her computer, completely absorbed in whatever report she’s working on. She hasn’t spoken to me since last night. Since I carried her to her room, and she shut the door in my face.
I deserved it. I know I did. But knowing doesn’t make it easier to sit here, three feet away from her, pretending everything is normal when nothing is normal at all.
Last night keeps replaying in my head. The warehouse. The women we found. The things Viktor Sokolov’s men were doing to them before we broke down the door.
I’ve seen a lot in my years with the Bratva. Violence doesn’t faze me anymore. Death is just another part of the business. But what I saw last night… That was different. Those women weren’t enemies or rivals. They were victims. Broken, terrified, and stripped of every shred of dignity.
And one of them could have been Anya.
My hands curl into fists on my desk. I force them to relax before Kirsten notices.
When Pavel first brought me the intel on Sokolov’s operation, I didn’t believe it. The man runs a legitimate security consulting firm on paper. He moves in the same circles as other businessmen, attends the same galas, and donates to the same charities. No one would ever suspect what he really does.
He finds vulnerable women. Women with secrets, with debt, with families they’re trying to protect. He digs into their lives until he finds their weakness, then he exploits it.Blackmails them into becoming escorts for high-profile clients who pay handsomely for discretion.
It’s a clever operation. The women can’t go to the police because Sokolov has enough dirt on them to destroy their lives. The clients won’t talk because they have too much to lose. Everyone stays silent, and Sokolov keeps getting richer.
Until he made the mistake of targeting my sister.
Pavel intercepted communications earlier this week. Sokolov’s people were gathering information on Anya. I shut them down before they could find anything useful. Last night’s raid was supposed to be the final blow, a message to Sokolov that this family is off limits.
Instead, it turned into something else entirely. Something that will haunt me for a long time.
My phone buzzes, and I grab it, grateful for the distraction.
Pavel's text makes my blood run cold.
Viktor Sokolov is on his way to your building. He wants to talk.
I read the message twice. Three times. Then I set the phone down on my desk and lean back in my chair.
He’s coming here. To my building. To confront me on my own turf.
The smart move would be to tell security to turn him away. To let Pavel and the others handle this far from the office, far from Kirsten, far from anything that could expose what I really am.
But I’m not feeling smart today. I’m feeling angry. The kind of cold, quiet anger that doesn’t burn out. The kind that waits.
I text back:Let him up.
Pavel’s response is immediate:You sure?
It’s lunchtime. The office will be empty. I want to hear what he has to say.
Three dots appear, then disappear. Then:On my way. Don’t do anything stupid before I get there.
I almost laugh. Pavel knows me too well.
